


dupe

by v3ilfire



Series: like no lion that you've heard before [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Friendship, Gen, and pep talks, that's all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7506373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v3ilfire/pseuds/v3ilfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard found it difficult not to think of the past when everything around her was nothing but a big, glaring reminder of how much things had changed in what was just the blink of an eye to her. The giant bed and the giant skylight and the giant, empty fishtank in her giant, sterile cabin felt so entirely false. Not the Normandy, but an expensive imitation of the real thing, just like the dossiers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Florence had come to a complete standstill in the doorway of her own room. EDI, who had been blissfully polite enough to wait for prompts during the guided tour of the Normandy, was forced to show a little initiative about thirty seconds after the Commander began to exhibit physiological signs of shock.   
“These are the Commanding officer’s quarters.” With that confirmation, Florence grew brave enough to take a couple of tentative steps into the space. Once she realized it was real and not some Cerberus hologram, she was mostly just afraid of scuffing the floors.    
“It’s … big,” she managed. “A bit much for a warship, isn’t it?”   
“This is a Cerberus vessel, not an alliance warship. Accommodations have been made for personal taste.” Florence huffed once her eyes landed on a particularly stern picture of one Lieutenant someone had placed next to her terminal. A little  _ too _ personal. “That said, this space is directly under the exterior pressure hull. The fitting yard workers called it, ‘the loft.’”    
“Right. Thanks, EDI.” 

Florence made her way to the picture frame, feeling even more alienated in her own ship by this… gesture. She remembered seeing the photo before in a news vid - in fact she remembered thinking it looked far too stern to feel like Kaidan at all. In retrospect, he would always sort of  _ light up _ whenever she came around, but then again she also remembered him being a pretty warm person even when he didn’t know she was looking...

Warm memories thrust promptly aside, Florence figured the good news was that he was alive, but his absence from her dossiers immediately reduced him to leverage. The photo was less a fond reminder of their… fraternizing and more a cheap attempt at using him as either motivation or a threat, as if there was any difference at the end of the day. Without a second thought she laid the thing face-down on her desk, resolved to focus on the mission first and personal matters later. 

Still, she found it difficult not to think of the past when everything around her was nothing but a big, glaring reminder of how much things had changed in what was just the blink of an eye to her. The giant bed and the giant skylight and the giant, empty fishtank in her giant, sterile cabin felt so entirely false. Not the Normandy, but an expensive imitation of the real thing, just like the dossiers. The only thing that wasn’t obnoxious about the space was the bathroom, and even that illusion shattered once she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. 

The image was… she hadn’t expected to look…  _ that _ bad. But maybe with the Cerberus cybernetics prickling at the scars across her face, and her sheared-off hair, and the Cerberus insignia on her uniform… maybe she too, was just an expensive imitation. The Illusive Man had not been exaggerating when he said he’d needed a symbol. 

“Shepard,” EDI said. A little too timely, but Florence appreciated it all the same. “Mr. Moreau would like to speak with you on the bridge.”    
“Is it urgent?”   
“My systems have not yet detected any reason for alarm.”   
“Then just… patch him through.” Having lost the staring contest with her own reflection, Florence abandoned the bathroom to busy her hands at the workbench. The Carnifex was no HMWP, but if she was destined to be a prisoner on her own ship, she’d find the time to make it dance like one.

Joker’s voice, at least, was a welcome interlude, his barely-masked excitement the only genuine thing about this whole mess.   
“Hey Commander, it looks like we’ll be on Omega about half an hour earlier than expected. Think the galaxy is ready for your big comeback?”    
“Only time will tell.” And, if the galaxy  _ wasn’t _ , well… Florence could relate. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Florence grew to like the observation deck. 

Samara had vacated it for the moment, though to be honest Florence paid little mind either way. Both the justicar and Thane were good people to share a space with as they remained largely preoccupied with their own meditations, but no matter how wisened the drell was or how good his conversation, life support lacked the view.

The doors opened behind her and just as Florence was about to greet Samara, Garrus crossed her line of sight and fell onto the couch next to her with a deep sigh.    
“Long day calibrating?” she teased, not yet able to pry her eyes off the stars.   
“The Thanix cannons are going to sing when I’m done with them, but they’re taking their sweet time getting warmed up to my touch. Long day being Shepard?”  
“No longer than usual.” Garrus nodded and, without comment, thrust a clear cup of vibrant purple liquid her way. “I’m good, Garrus. That’ll knock me on my ass.” She tried to push the thing away with her palm, but he insisted.  
“You never know, Shepard. Maybe Cerberus upgrades made you less of a lightweight. Besides, if anything happens, I’ll pull your ass out of the fire and you can take the credit, like always.” Florence rolled her eyes but accepted the drink, freeing up Garrus’s hands to pour his own.  
“If you want the credit, it’s all yours. Hasn’t done me any good. This isn’t dextro, is it?”    
“Amino, hand-delivered for you, by yours truly.” Florence flashed a half-smile just before she took the first tentative sip. Even the liquor on a Cerberus vessel was expensive. And fruity. 

Garrus polished off two drinks as his Commander worked her way through one. There was a small comfort in the creeping numbness in her nose, at least in knowing that some things even Cerberus couldn’t touch. Garrus silently offered her a second round, but she shook her head at it.  
“Just trying to loosen you up a little, Shepard. You’ve sealed yourself so tight the airlock is getting jealous.”   
“Just trying to stay focused on the mission.”    
“So that you don’t have to think about Horizon?” Finally, Florence turned her head towards him, though she said nothing. Garrus narrowed his eyes in thought. “... Teltin? Korlus? Tuchanka? Omega? Come on, Shepard, give me something. I keep listing things and now  _ I’m _ getting upset. It’s really taking away from the whole ‘charismatic and sexy battle-worn turian’ vibe I’ve been cultivating.”  
All that effort for just another brief smile. “You’re laying it on thick today, Vakarian.”    
“Just trying to cheer you up a little. Or at least get you to talk to me. I know I’m not a ruggedly charming Canadian biotic but I  _ am _ still your friend, Shepard.”    
“Best friend,” Florence corrected. Garrus was about to say something snarky in response, but she merely offered him her glass. “I just wonder if we’re doing the right thing. If I shouldn’t have just run to the Alliance, gone through the right channels, gone --”    
“Shepard, I quit C-Sec because the  _ right channels _ were dragging their asses. You get shit done - you  _ are _ the right channel. Cerberus just brought you back and gave you a ship, a crew, and the means to stop the Collectors. That’s not the worst offer I’ve ever heard.”

As soon as Garrus finished pouring, Florence brought her attention back to her glass. She swirled the liquid around a little, thoughts settled into paralysis by analysis.  
“I miss the Normandy,” she admitted, so quiet that Garrus thought his translator was glitching out on him again. They both seemed a little surprised by her confession.   
“Yeah. I guess it doesn’t really feel the same anymore, does it?” Florence shook her head and, without giving herself time to second-guess the decision, took the rest of her liquor down in one go.  
“Cerberus is just trying to mimic all of it,” she said, voice tight. “With this ship, these dossiers. And it’s not  _ working. _ ”  
“So… what are you going to do about it?” Judging by the look she gave him, that wasn’t a question she was expecting. “Come on. You’re Shepard, you  _ do _ things. When Saren threatened to rain death and destruction with Sovereign, you bullied your way into Spectre status and mounted a mission to end him. When the Council tried to shut you down, you stole the Normandy without so much as a peep of protest from your crew. Now you’ve got the Collectors and the Illusive Man down your throat. Stop thinking. What are you gonna  _ do _ ?” 

Garrus watched her stand up and move to the window, arms crossed and eyes distant. Clearly restless, she soon began to pace and drum her fingers on her arm, though she never once pulled her gaze away from the stars. It was better than nothing, he supposed, but he had been hoping for a slightly more enthusiastic reaction.    
“I can get them to work as a team,” Florence resolved. “It’s the only way we’re making it home. Then we’re going to destroy the Collector base, and we’re going to find out what the Reapers are planning next. And  _ then _ I’m going to steal the Normandy.”  
“There’s the Shepard we all know and are slightly intimidated by.” Florence threw the first genuine smile in his direction, the hard lines of her face finally broken by the same defiant glimmer that brought the original team together in the first place.    
“Credit’s all yours, but… I’m going to go back to my room before that second glass hits. Cerberus doesn’t need anything else to blackmail me with.”    
“And  _ there’s _ the Shepard we all know and love,” he added mock-wistfully. Florence shook her head as she passed by him to head for the door.  
“Don’t drink and calibrate. And, Garrus?”   
“Shepard?”    
“Thanks.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look @ all that friendship. you can find me as @v3ilfire on tumblr for more rambling


End file.
